


Cellophane Flowers of Yellow and Green

by Pillow_Bee



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, businessman!Bond, cherik is somewhere in the background if you squint a little, gardener!Q, inspired by shipimpala
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pillow_Bee/pseuds/Pillow_Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Put that down, will you, it’s only your new gardener,” Eve said, rolling her eyes at James and stepping closer to the window. “Hello, Q.”</p><p><i>“Queue?”</i> James repeated. If their sense of survival was terrible, then the names that they decided to go by were absolutely ridiculous.  “Who the hell sneaks up to people’s windows <i>and</i> calls himself <i>Queue?”</i></p><p>“Q is a very respectable and unique letter, if I do say so myself,” said Queue – or, was it supposed to be just the letter Q?</p><p>The nicknames, James thought, were even more fucking ridiculous.</p><p>(Or, the one where James is a successful businessman, and Q is his new gardener that he most definitely <i>did not</i> hire.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cellophane Flowers of Yellow and Green

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by shipimpala's [wonderful gifset.](http://shipimpala.tumblr.com/post/56505612902/ultimate-slash-madness-tourney-vote-for-00q)

It was customary for Sir James Bond to spend his Saturday mornings in his library alone. Eve knew not to disturb him, his office-people knew not to disturb him – even his German shepherd knew not to disturb him – because this essentially was what he (and everyone else) knew as his 'Me Time.' James Bond was a busy businessman; hence whenever he was not on some trip to Hong Kong or Berlin or God-knows-where, and had the Saturdays to himself, he'd rather like to spend it as peacefully as possible, thank you very much.

The morning in which our story starts was a beautiful morning: the sky was clear, with fluffy white clouds floating about, the sun was shining down upon the gardens outside, and James sighed contentedly as he leaned against his armchair and gazed out the large window overlooking said garden. He wasn’t thinking of anything in particular at the moment, but he did think that maybe his shrubbery and rosebushes could do with a little trimming – and only then did something come to his mind. He groaned.

His old gardener, Jakob, had decided to retire and travel back to Dusseldorf, citing his son’s upcoming wedding as the main reason. Jakob had been his gardener for as long as he could remember, and James really did not like the idea of parting with the old man – but he spoke of his son so fondly that James had no other choice but to relent, offer his congratulations, and watch his gardener pack and leave.

“Do try and come, if you are not busy,” Jakob had said, handing over an invitation card to him in this very same library. If he wasn’t mistaken, Jakob’s son was about to marry a professor. A genetics professor? Something of that sort. He really couldn’t remember now.

James had smiled and told the older man that he could try and attend if he had the time, and that had been their last exchange. He had offered to drive Jakob back, but the old man had graciously declined.

“Exercise is good for me,” he had said with a smile. “Take care now, James.”

“You too, Jakob.”

And that was how James found himself without a gardener and a garden that was slowly getting out of shape. He knew that Eve had been reminding him to hire a new gardener since then, but James really did not have the time to give it a thought until today. Perhaps he could start advertising? Or maybe he could ask around, find out if any of his neighbours were willing to ‘share’ their gardener (although he knew Miss Frost across the street would rather _die_ than share anything or anyone with other people, the stingy hag)…

James was still thinking about gardeners and writing an ad to the papers and arranging interviews with potential gardeners (can’t have random people walk about his house now, can he?) when, quite out of the blue, there came a great deal of rustling from outside and, moments later, a loud _BANG_ as something – or someone – plastered themselves against one of James’ library window.

“The _fuck,”_ James hissed, jumping out of his armchair and heading towards his desk where he kept his gun in the drawer. He took it out and pointed it steadily at the window. Sure enough, there was a figure there. But the figure appeared to be unaware of James’ presence in the library – it was a man, younger than James by perhaps ten years, give or take, with unruly black hair and a thin frame. There wasn’t much that James could make out from where he stood, but he could see that the stranger wore glasses, because he had his hands cupped around them as he continued to look into the library.

James studied the stranger for a moment or two, decided that he seemed harmless enough, before calling out, “Hey!”

The stranger visibly jumped, and immediately backed off when he saw the gun in his hand.

“How did you get inside?” James demanded, now making a mental note to go over the security system with Eve as soon as he’d handled this young intruder.

“I – umm, sorry – I didn’t—”

“I asked you a question,” James said, approaching the window to get a better view.

“Perhaps you could lower your gun?” the intruder prompted. He now had both hands in the air, and now that James was closer, he could see the other man clearly: black hair, pale skin, glasses perched atop his long nose, and green eyes that were flickering nervously between James and the weapon in his hand.

James wondered why he didn't turn and run away.

Kids these days really didn’t seem to have any basic survival skills…

“I will not ask you again,” James said calmly.

“I’m the gardener,” the younger man said simply and, as though it was an afterthought, he added, “and who are you?”

“I am the person who lives in this goddamn house,” James retorted, “and I don’t remember hiring _you.”_

“Ah. That’s because you didn’t. You see, Miss Moneypenny—”

James groaned to himself. “Eve!” he shouted. “Eve. Eve. _Eve!”_

The younger man, who was apparently his new gardener, now simply looked amused and had lowered his hands a little as he watched James holler for Eve.

“Hands where I can see them,” James ground out, and the other man complied, giving him a little shrug as if to say, _calm down, my hands are right here._ He heard rather than saw Eve march into the room, her high heels click-clacking against the floor loudly.

“What? What is it, I was – oh. _Oh.”_

The stranger outside the window had _the nerve_ to smile (James noticed that his eyes got all squinty and – it was one of those types of smiles that reached the eyes, really) at Eve and wave at her with one of his hands. “Morning, Miss Moneypenny.”

“Put that down, will you, it’s only your new gardener,” Eve said, rolling her eyes at James and stepping closer to the window. “Hello, Q.”

 _“Queue?”_ James repeated. If their sense of survival was terrible, then the names that they decided to go by were absolutely ridiculous. “Who the hell sneaks up to people’s windows _and_ calls himself _Queue?”_

“Q is a very respectable and unique letter, if I do say so myself,” said Queue – or, was it supposed to be just the letter Q?

The nicknames, James thought, were even more fucking ridiculous.

“Eve Moneypenny, you have got exactly ten seconds to explain _why_ there is a man who goes by the name Q standing there in my garden, peeping into my library not five minutes ago, and _why_ you have decided to hire him as my gardener without consulting me first,” James said dryly as he finally lowered his gun.

Eve rolled her eyes again, as ‘Q’ (honestly, what—?) started to say, “Can I lower my hands now? It’s starting to ache.”

James lifted his gun again and pointed it at directly Q, who immediately shut up and lifted his hands once more.

“Stop being rude to your new employee,” Eve said, shoving the hand that held the gun away, before addressing the other man. “Come round the back, Q, the kitchen door isn’t locked. I think some toast and tea are in order,” here, she turned her glare at James, “don’t _you?”_

James simply narrowed his eyes at her as Q smiled (really, it did reach his eyes and his whole face would light up) and thanked Eve before disappearing from view with a great deal of rustling.

“I hired him because he can do a decent job at gardening, appears to be intelligent and polite _and_ clean, and _also_ because I knew if it were up to you, your garden there will be Mrs. Craven’s garden before you’d hire anyone and by _then,_ it’d be nigh impossible for any gardener to work on it,” Eve said, all in one breath, before smiling sweetly at him. “You did employ me for a reason, Mr. Bond. Now, tea and toast, and _play nice.”_

James rolled his eyes and groaned, again, as Eve marched out of the library.

**Author's Note:**

> This, I wrote on impulse.
> 
> I didn't even have a title. Then something came to my mind, and I named it after a line in a song, but then thought better of it, remembered _another_ song and used its lyrics instead for the title.
> 
> I have plans for this.
> 
> But it's always bad when I say I "have plans" for a fic.
> 
> Let's see where this goes, shall we?
> 
> (Did anyone see the Cherik? 8D)


End file.
